


A Century Ago

by kaapa



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (the first person POV is very ambiguous though so dont not read this just because of it), ??? - Freeform, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, POV First Person, Post-Canon, The Author Regrets Nothing, also stuff doesnt work like it works in minecraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29177970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaapa/pseuds/kaapa
Summary: 100 years after the DreamSMP, someone finds a remnant from long ago.tl;dr- a random ungendered person finds a disk of tommy and wilbur singing and thinks of what happened within this world so long ago
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	A Century Ago

**Author's Note:**

> haha anyway hey i got this idea from youtube. its short, and not my best at all by far but heres the link to what inspired me to do this  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=awqPU8YxvmE
> 
> have fun  
> kudo, comment and share

I pick up the strange round disk. I knew what it was of course but the giant crater it laid inside of i didnt. It had possibly been more than 100 years since the wars broke out and in the end all that was left were broken houses, forgotten memories and pained ghosts forever roaming the area.  
The vinyl hadn't been broken yet even though it seemed to be the most fragile thing in existence. It wobbled in my dirt-coated fingers and blood stained palms and if i wasn't careful i could snap it in half with barely enough force if i tried. I wouldn't dare to try that though. 

The feeling pulsating through my fingers gave me a hum of content, though disks are easy to find the world had eventually become so lit up by torches you could really only find them in dungeons and other monuments. Mobs were scarce now.  
I placed down a crafting table, after hundreds upon thousands of years the basic crafting methods hadn't changed. Diamonds were much less valuable now, and though netherite was still hard to find it wasn't quite as a rarity to see.  
It wouldn't get you excited if you happened to stumble upon it while on a nether expedition.

Wood on the other hand was just the same as it was so long ago. Oak was always my favourite. My friends used to disagree with me but i'd always be loyal to the wood. 

Placing down the jukebox i stared at the disk for a moment. The engravings twisted around the middle in graduating loops of sizes and depths, the pitch black colour shone in the blaring light of the setting sun like oil and the coloured plastic in the middle satisfied me. A deep crimson that often reminded me of that one disk i used to listen to a really long time ago. 

Sighing i place it in the box, the sputtering static shocks me out of my haze and i wait patiently for the music to start 

except instead of music, the voice of a tired man starts.

"i heard there was a special place,"

"where men could go emancipate,"

The tune rang out over the tranquil field, only the brush of the trees and the whistling of leaves could be heard slightly over the voice.

"the brutality, and tyranny of their rulers"

"well this place is real you needn't fret"

I frowned at the suggestion of a miserable society. The world i lived in had been freely governed by the citizens, many nations had sprouted over the years but yet i lived by myself, the cold and snow were always my favourite. 

"with Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, fuck Eret"

"a very big and not blown up L'manberg"

I closed my eyes at the names. Though in a clearly not very kind essence, i could tell there was still some respect left for 'Eret' in there somewhere.  
The other names sounded so familiar yet so far.

The mention of an explosion not yet happening shook me to my core as i stared at the gaping crater reaching down to terrifying depths. 

"My L'manberg..."

"My L'manberg..."

"My L'manberg..."

I listened in on the tired voice, exhausted from fighting. 

"-Tommy"

Two voices chimed in, repeating the chorus of 'My L'manberg' over and over again.

"..- My L'manberg."

The disk ended, plopping out of the jukebox quickly as i put it in.

I didnt bother picking it up, opting to stare at the setting sun once more as i pondered.

There used to be legends of a country called L'manberg, of an evil man called Dream and the other members, like Eret and Wilbur. Or Puffy and Bad, maybe even the rumoured Technoblade who used to be a great warrior fighting battles of good and evil, the blade but never the friend. Maybe Philza, a great avian who's wings formed a cape and a man who survived the unsurvivable only to die by a baby zombie.

I often thought about the legends, if they were true. The gaping hole was evidence of the battles but the rest of the area was abandoned. A large white house, a strange home inside a hill, a giant broken down prison still making noises of a distance creature within its walls, a castle that raised into the sky.

Graves planted infront of a bench facing the sun, flowers littered everywhere around the area.  
The writing was always to scratched to read.

Bees always tended to fly about the area. i liked to stare at them in awe with their fuzzy bodies and round eyes.

I turned my glance back to the disk and picked it up, gently putting into a shulker box. (After countless years, we somehow were finally able to open the strange portal leading to another dimension.) 

I groaned and put my head in my hands. So many feelings. Just who was Tommy? Who was Tubbo? Who was Wilbur? Who was Eret?

Who are all these people?

Where are they?

What happened?

...

I hope their happy now


End file.
